


Don't let the door hit you on your way out [New Chapter updated]

by SuplexQueen



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hive!AU, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, No-War, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuplexQueen/pseuds/SuplexQueen
Summary: During an expedition that Ratchet only got to be part  of was because he had been forced to retire due to his hands malfunctioning, Ratchet gets seperated from his team and left behind. Yet, even if left behind, he soon realizes that he is still far from alone.[UPDATED, CHAPTER 4 IS OUT.The Author note has been deleted so we're still at three chapters.]





	1. Six feet under

**Author's Note:**

> You will realize, me describing anything is like, hell.

His pedes slammed over the rocky ground beneath him as he dodged another shot from behind him. His team mates of strange mechs running a bit further away, faster than him but one of them kept glancing back to check if Ratchet was still able to keep up. Well, thanks for the fragging care! Primus, his joints hurt so much. He was too old for this. He realizes it over and over again with every time he trips or stumbles. Frantically catching himself but everything was way too intense. 

He was so stressed and on edge because if he did indeed lose his footing and fall, he'd fall deep. They were right on the edge of a cliff, a wall next to him, there was only one way to go and that was forward. Barely any room to move around. He already got shot tree times but thanks to the shit aiming of the bounty hunter breathing down his neck it was one time shoulder, one time side and one time grazing his helmet. Which frankly, he could live with. Anything was good but the legs right now. As long as he could run as fast as his creaking joints would be able to carry him, he'd be going far. If only for his grumpy stubborness shoving his frame forward.

Grunting with pain as he hopped over a bolder snapped him back out of his thought process, only to realize that shit was about to hit the fan. They were sandwiched in- His team had been halted by two of the bounty hunters they've been fleeing from. Given, his team was a group of mostly scientists and people who were fascinated by the creatures and things growing here- but alright. They were capable of self-defense. Something the enemy did not seem prepared for. 

The two younger mechs, he remembered their faces because they shot one of his colleagues earlier into tiny little pieces, nasty fraggers- looked absolutely dumb founded when they got knocked over and landed on their afts with wide optics and confused noises. Flailing to not fall down and into the cliff as they got basically run over by the group of scared but determined mechs. Unfortunately- With Ratchet a bit behind, as soon as the last one of them got past the bounty hunters they got up again. 

Now he was sandwiched in. Alone. 

"Hey- HEY! Get back here and help me!" Ratchets voice was hoarse from the strain but still loud enough for three out of seven mechs to hear him and turn around, looking panicked and despaired. They weren't any better for wear either. None of them was young and nimble. None of them actual fighters- But as selfish as it felt, Ratchet feared the fate of getting caught more than he wanted to admit. A medic? They'd get good money selling him. 

To Primus knew who. Many messed up people in the universe. Too many. The universe was being good to Ratchet today, he thought, as his team actually turned and tried to ram the other two mechs that were in Ratchets way off the cliff. But the noise of the remaining three enemies closing in made him only realize that maybe there wasn't enough time. His body burned from the wounds he got, so he barreled his body right into the szene- hearing shocked and frightened squaking. He probably knocked the two youngsters off. 

Ratchet would have felt bad if not for the fact that they were into torture. As they proved earlier. One hand grabs him from the behind but three others grab him from the front and pull. He's free. They run. Someone is shooting, probably one of th- nope. It's the team leader. Ushering everyone past him as he holds a gun in his big hand and firing wildly into the mechs behind them. It worked, they scattered as much as they could and backed off. With the little space they had to dodge, they didn't have much option but to run and try to return fire. 

Bless his spark- Pretty sure his name was Ridge. "Move it- Move it faster! Ratchet, don't fall behind!" The younger mech, but only by a little, snarled at him as he stumbled past him. Nodding in response to the bigger and making his way up the little pathway that would lead them out of here. Ridge was already running past him again to check on the others. 

Which is where the universe decided to be no longer helping Ratchet today. 

The rumbling noise made both groups freeze and look around frantically- one of the shots or maybe one too many seemed to have caused the stones to crumble. Ratchet still hanging behind and the bounty hunters behind him already getting crushed underneath the heavy rocks. Their screams hollering loudly from the walls. Now grab your pedes and run! The last one in the narrow cliffside- he was so close. Two of them already kneeling at the edge to try and pull him as soon as he was close enough, Ridge, bless his spark twice- trying to get back into the action and only getting held back by the two security members they had. 

Fate decided he was not going to make it. If he had to choose what was the worst about all this, it would have been the horrified and helpless expressions of the good people in front of him before he felt one of the heavy rocks slam down hard on an ankle, crushing it effectively and rendering him stuck. Another boulder slamming right in front of him. Out of luck, out of life. He looks behind him, seeing nothing but dust and stones. 

"Ratchet!" The deep voice of one of the elder members, Kennel, he thought, was making frantic hand movements. "Just cut it off! We can get you a new one!" Oh what a fool. A sweet sparked fool. They were way too close to the edge- The chance of them falling high. So Ratchet makes another choice he didn't think he was going to make today. "Get your ugly afts outta here! I'm right behind you!" He levels his body forward and the sickening crunch from his leg is all the info he needs to know it's off. 

It had been practically pulverized through the heavy mass of stone just a few seconds ago after all. "Oh gross!" These pansies. Half mindedly the mech was contemplating on how he was still in shock, he felt barely anything. The adrenaline shooting through his nerves and sending him on edge, to survive. He rammed his digits onto the stone and flung himself with strength he did not even know he had into his group, getting caught by several servos and before he knew it, there they went. Rolling away from the edge and laughing hysterically like a bunch of sparklings. 

Everyone was not okey and messed up but they survived. Before Ratchet looked ahead and made a grimace- Great. More cliffs. Well, to expect. They were in some kind of.. tunel system. It reminded him of a hive of some sorts. Even if they could still see the sky, one would think that maybe once upon a time some people, ancient, lived here. Or at least some animals. Probably animals. There were caves here and there and stony bridges had grown during the centuries, connecting pathways. 

The walls were bowing and it seemed as if they were growing into the sky and bending to form some sort of crater, hiding the place a little from any sunlight except the few stary rays of sunlight making it past the sturdy rock. There was no noise aside them flailing around and celebrating being alive. They were patting each other on the shoulder and as much as Ratchet wanted to join, he turned to tend to his torn off appendage. 

It was disgusting- The energon running out of the giant wound slowly tainting the floor. Draining basically on the floor, in a small stream dripping over the edge and into the dark abyss right under them. It made Ratchet uneasy, almost expecting something energon thirsty jumping and killing them all. He'd been watching too much horror holo back on the ship. Shivering a little and using a tool from his subspace to simply clamp everything shut. He didn't have the time for anything too fancy right now.

"-and I think we gathered enough information either way. I say we go home." He heard the gruff voice from Ridge. Right before he stomped on the ground and growled lowly. "And I remind you all that I am the team leader and fund this entire trip. We lost three people already and almost our only medic. Time to pack it up and get off this smelly rock." Did Ratchet ever mention to bless this mechs spark? No? He had to repeat himself. The murmur going through the group made him realize that he was either going deaf or zonig out, with this much energon loss wasn't good. So he cut into their bickering quickly with a huff. "Said medic speaking- I'm bleeding out still. We need to get back to the ship." 

Which seemed to bring everyone out of their bickering, Ridge stepping over and kneeling down to check on the wound that Ratchet had gotten himelf. “Guess I’ll have to carry your skammy aft.” Which got a snort from the medic. “You’d wish. I have come prepared.” With that statement he fumbled in his subspace, making everyone gather around him in curiousity. “Oh geeze, Ratchet and his magic box. I wanna be like him once I grow up.” The chuckles filling the air were still tense and anxious, but they eased the tension to some degree. “Knowing you-” Someone filled in and gave a jab to the mech who’d been speaking. ”you’d grow up to sell candy or some boring slag.”  

“Language children.” Ratchet mumbled as he pulled a little staff out, before anyone knew he had already pulled the thick appendage in the lenght and formed a very nice walking cane. It wasn’t made for cripples but more for.. Well, he was old and sometimes his joints hurt. No one could blame him for that! “Holy frag, Ratchet  _is_ turning into an old man!” Primus spare him the snarky side comments of a bunch of just as old mechs. “Shut up before I’m welding your heels to your aft, you exhaust-crab." He shot back and slowly fought himself back onto his pedes with a pained grunt. Staring at them with a little confusion in his gaze before snorting at the worried glances he got in return. “What now?! Scram already! Let’s get off this stinky planet.” The idea was met with agreement, slowly everyone was shuffling towards one direction.  

There was a pathway out of the cliff-system just further south. They merely had to cross some of these.. Creepy darn bridges to get out. He hoped he wouldn’t trip and tumble to his death. That would be far from ideal. A smaller, red mech. One of their security members, Doc was his name, ironic because Doc did not like doctors, he stayed next to Ratchet as much as he could to ensure the mech was not going to be left behind. But still, he was limping as the last of their group. He didn’t know for how long he could keep up before someone had to carry him.

Absolutely not. The time where he'd let anyone carry him would be the day he'd run without panels through a crowd. The mere thought shocking him into a snortling noise that got no attention, especially because everyone had started to walk again. Ratchet limping after them and already dreaming about the small med-bay they had onboard. Oh, he'd get there right away and first thing he'd do was dope himself up with a med-chip to block his pain receptors. 

 Everything from here out would be easy. IS what he wished, is what he wanted to be able to say. Except the sound of someone cocking their gun made everyone flinch together and turn around, on the middle of one of these bridges. 

You had to be fragging kidding him.

Staring straight ahead he looked at the leader of the bounty hunters with a furious expression. The mech looked ready to kill everyone and then himself. "You pack got my team killed." Ratchet stumbled a little since he was forced to stand on the spot. These bridges were too damn thin. "We can say the same about yours." Ridge gave back with a snarl, stepping closer but having to stop as the enemy aimed the gun at him. 

"I'll kill you first for saying that." He then looked at Ratchet. "And after I shot every single bastard, I'll take your ancient relic over here and get some cash. I'd say I deserve it after all the trouble you caused me." He snarled, the hateful expression only deepening when Ratchet didn't bother to look intimidated. Glancing behind him at his team. They all were scared. Ridge put up a good front but he was no fighter. He was a professor for an university, for crying out loud. 

They had to go back to their families and friends. Ratchet? He literally had joined this travel because he had nothing better to do. No friends to hang out with nor work to be doing. Due to his old age he'd been forced to retire, especially with his hands not working as well as they used to. But they hadn't cared. They had given him the job and a group to call.. almost friends. Even if it wasn't for long. 

Ratchet's will to survive and his morals clashed but came to a quick agreement. If they didn't get to the ship soon, he'd die anyway. That he was old and had lived a good life full of adventure and people he would dearly miss. Unfortunately they were already gone. So maybe he'd meet them again instead when he joined the afterlife. He grits his denta and is snapped out of his thought process by the bounty hunter turning the gun safety off with an audible click, his finger moving to the trigger-

Even before he was even close to pulling it to shoot his team leader, Ratchet acted. The closest. So close in fact, he felt pity for the mech who dared to underestimate him. With a quick motion he flung his make-shift crutch at the other mech, who got it right in the face. "What the frag-" Ratchet assumed Ridge would have done something if not for the fact that the medic he had taken along to this travel was selfish. There was nothing he could have said to make this easier on them or him. 

He uses his functioning leg to jump and tackle the other mech effectively. "Ratchet!" Who the horrified voice belonged to he couldn't bother to identify anymore. His entire body was going 360 degrees from the strain and stress and the realization that.. this was it. With an angry yell he rammed his heel into the ground beneath them and anchored himself backwards, actually lifting the bigger mech one-legged and flinging them both off the bridge to fall to their death. 

A jolt and intense pain in his shoulder made him look up. Ridge had flung himself as well, catching Ratchet by barely the fingertips. He didn't look so happy. "You stubborn, old, crazy fool! Hold on tight!" Which he unfortunately couldn't. He didn't feel that arm anymore. Something probably tore and left him numb in that limb. Probably from getting shot earlier and now the tearing of being caught by that arm. Even if he wanted to, the bastard of a bounty hunter still hung on his leg and tried to crawl up his body with a panicked noise. 

"Get off this rock you tools." His voice sounded as shakey as he felt. Fear of death and pain- He.. didn't want to die. But he also couldn't let the mech hanging on him climb back up on him and tear these people to shreds. He was a fighter, they weren't. Against the younglings they might have stood a chance in numbers but he was big enough to bulldoze right over them with the experience and skill he had. Ratchet knew. He killed the other three members of the security team after all. 

"No- Fragging hold on already, don't be a fragging idio-" He slips. The panicked encouraging yelps of his team suddenly so far away as they turned into even more hysteric yelling and screaming. Suddenly he feels strangely free, right before he hits the first ledge. He slams back first onto the hard rock below him and gets flung around like a ragdol before coming to a somewhat halt on one of the ledges. His remaining hand ramming it's digits into the soil, his optics flickered. Would he be able to hang on? 

The enemy was gone. His screaming was below, right before it cut off with an ugly scrunching noise. Yeah, there was definetely something sharp down there to get skewered on. With a glance upwards he realizes that it doesn't matter if he holds on or not. There was no way for them to reach him and his strength was already fading. His entire arm shaking. He should have something better, something nicer, he didn't want them to think that they didn't matter to him.

The remaining heads of his team were leering over the edge with wide, horrified and pained optics. He saw their mouths moving but the wind carried their words away, into the sky and far away from the old mechs audials. With a dry, broken sob, he felt his digits slowly give into the weight of his body and into the gravity of the planet. He knew he couldn't have held on for long but.. this really was pathetic. 

Ratchet gives a last glance up, smiling shakily. He felt as if he was in the medbay trying to calm a frantic patient down. Ridge, ever the hero, seemed to try to climb all the way down here. Being held back again. One day he was going to die protecting someone. He could imagine the other dying an honorful and wholesome death like this. Ratchet couldn't help and feel proud at the fact that he too, was going to die protecting good people. 

His hand gives in and the last thing of them he sees is their despaired expressions. 

* * *

He didn't know how long he's been laying here. Frankly, Ratchet had expected somewhat a more painful death. Right now he didn't feel anything. His optics flickering in the dark before glancing around. He also didn't  _see_ anything. His headlights turn on only for him to wish he kept them off. Maybe he was in shock. He had to be. Because a Stalagmit had rammed itself right through his stomach and effectively hooked him like some ort of earth-fish. The old mech swallowed repeatedly and couldn't figure out how he was even still alive. 

Given, he barely felt anything. His entire body felt like it was stuck in some kind of pillow. Very numb, to be fair. Looking around he could only snort out a humorless laugh at the dead frame of their persuer. He'd been skewered right in the spark. Definetely dead. His frame had gone grey already too. A clear sign that his spark had joined the all spark by now. They were all equal in death. Or so some said. 

But Ratchet to be honest wished a special kind of hell for people like these. He lifts his still functioning arm before giving up, not even trying to pull himself off this spike. He shouldn't push it. Right now there was no pain, but who knew for how long? Dying without any pain seemed like the better option. After all, his team thought him dead and he would remain here while they flew home, safely. While he starved. Alone. 

This creepy decor wasn't helping either. Staring with a resigned huff at the wall in front of him, or was it the ceiling? There.. was no light. The stone didn't reflect the sun-light from above as much as a shadow would. Not at all. Great conclusion Sherlock Hatchet. Exhaustion crept on him. He was leaking badly, so he assumed that if he chose to close his optics now, he would very likely not wake up. Or if, be even weaker than he was right now. 

Maybe he should just make it easy on himself and go to rech-  _Skkskrkrkrrkttkkrkskskskkrrrttk-_ Ok what the  ** _frag_** was that noise? Suddenly the creepy decor of guts and glory got even creepier and made the mech look around himself in silent horror. There were many, mech sized holes in the walls but now that he heard the noise it was the only and first time he even paid attention to them. After all, just a moment ago he'd been busy dying. Please let it be nothing, go away- Goawaygoawaygoaway- 

It came closer instead. Obviouly. Because Ratchet couldn't have good things and he had to die in terror of whatever was skittering through one of these tunnels. He gives a dry, resigned sob and drops his helm after merely a minute of looking around, the exhaustion stopping him from being able to do much but lay there and accept whatever was going to happen. If he could, he would have curled up to at least try and die more warm than freezing. 

Since they were so deep down, it was quite cold. No light except his headlights. Maybe- Maybe he should, oh well there they went anyway. Before he could decide to turn them off, his headlights flicker and then shut off by themselves. Alright, fine. Not like he wanted to see anything anyway. Let him be fragging blind and- Oh Primus.  _Skkrtktktktktktktktktktk._ It was so close now that the light was off, and then.. the sound of something scratching gently against the stone right over him made him struggle and whimper pathetically. Please just let him shut down in peace, he didn't want to be eaten to death or otherwisely torn apart in a horrible fashion. 

The struggling send a jolt of pain through his body, which is why he stopped as much as he could. But, holy hell, the weird, tick tack noise of something sharp climbing over the walls wasn't helping. He just wan- The soft light of.. optics made his head snap up and stare with horror at whatever the hell was right in front of him. It was big and seemed to use.. it was of no use. In the dark he could barely see anything. But then suddenly he felt a warm servo rest upon his stomach, right next to where he was stuck on the stone spike and his body cramped up with a helpless and panicked sob. Shaking his head repeadetly as if that would somehow get that thing away. 

He should scream. Fight. But Ratchet finds that his mental reserves are empty. He can just lay here in an awkward and uncomfortable angle, moments before that thing would tear out his internals. It's claws already digging slightly into his metal before a soft chirr made him realize there was another one. They were definetely cybernetic but.. That didn't mean they were intelligent. They've seen a lot on this planet but they couldn't do much research on the cave systems before they've been ambushed by the mercenarys. An ugly crunching noise startles his body, making it tense and cramp from the pain. 

He knew that sound, metal tearing, wires snapping and protomesh being ripped. They were taking the body next to him apart. Primus below and above. Just kill him already, don't make him listen to this.. gross .. whatever. Feeding process. His energy levels were so low from leaking so much, he could force himself into stasis now if he wanted to. But that wouldn't fix much, as soon as they tore into him he'd wake up again from the agony. 

Alright, so there were more than two. Three? Four? Not more than six at least, at least he didn't think so. He could only detect movement from four different angles, whimpering high pitched as the claws pressed a bit into his armor. Tense and trembling. "P-Primus- Just kill me already." He choked out. To which he only got a chuff, right into his audial. The medic cringed away and jerked his entire body to the left in his panic. Which was a mistake- 

He felt the spike of stone tear even deeper into his protoform and the noise he gave was loud, shrill and full of pain. The claws on his stomach jerked away and instead his helm was rammed into the stone beneath him with loud aggressive snarling. Finally. They were going to kill him.. Already shutting his optics off as pain took over he readied himself for being taken from this world and to join the all spark. What he wasn't ready for, was his entire body being yanked upwards and off the spike he'd been laying on this entire time. 

The noise he made was again, shrill and this time confusion mixed into the horror and pain before he was.. cradled? Could he call it that? Whatever had him, definetely had more arms than one. Soft but deep chirring making him freeze and look up in confusion and delusion. He must be dead and this was his hell. With a soft cough, choking up energon and probably tainting the creature that held him, he simply goes limp. The burn of his armor too much. He couldn't fight on anymore. 

Exhaustion tore his optics to close an- nope. A sharp pinch got him to flail and squirm in discomfort. That didn't help, he felt a heavy servo on the back of his helm and then his face got pressed into something.. soft and sticky? It clung to his face and rendered him completely blind and mute as well, breaking into a muffled and panicked protest didn't do anything and when he lifted his hand to try and scrape it off the only thing he felt was a smooth and somewhat hard surface, so it was like a band-aid? Judging by the smell it was one of the weird mushrooms they had found on the surface. 

They had found that those things stuck like hell to anything that was trying to eat them from the below, probably a defense mechanism against smaller creatures. They'd choke unless they didn't need to breath. Good thing he didn't need to. He just cranked his vents open and roared air through them while he helplessly clawed at the 'shroom before his hand was taken and tucked next to his frame. The creature starting to move again. 

Now he knew there were more than one, because he was being passed around like some rag-doll. Ratchet would have kicked but the old mech found that moving was too much of an effort while he was bleeding out and that he might as well not. His struggling ceasing completely after merely a minute or so, which caused an approving rumble from the chassis of the creature that held him currently. They were bigger than him, at least two of them were. He didn't know about the other creatures. 

He knew nothing. He knew something of the fragging plant life and the solar cycles, he knew how to fix someone up real good and then weld their afts to the ceiling but beyond that? Nothing. He just stared with nothing in his view but darkness in any random direction. What he muffled was a meek question, filled with hope and something else- Maybe he was too delusional from energon loss at this point. He wouldn't put it past himself. 

No answer, only a low humm coming from one of the frames behind them. The noise of them scrambling through the low tunnels and somehow managing to not hit the walls, it was somehow soothing, now that he finally let his exhaustion take over. He felt energon run down his face, probably a small fragment. Or maybe the toxic acids of the mushroom had dissolved an healing patch of armor. One couldn't know. With a shakey sigh he suddenly stops tensing and hits the floor with both legs as he does so. 

The reaction is rather strong. Loud hissing, snarling and weird.. he didn't recognize if this was an actual language or not but it was words crammed together with an agitated tone, deep and hoarse, gruff. It almost sounded like.. scolding? Cursing? Angry jibberish somehow. He gets pulled up and firmer against the creature holding him before suddenly it cradles him like a sparkling, stroking over his legs with soft murmurs as if to apologize. So, were they intelligent? 

If so, how intelligent? And would that work out to his favor or against it? Ratchet didn't know. With a slow move of his injured but still working hand, he slowly patted the chassis in front of him as if to calm the agitated frame. Surprisingly, it seemed to work. The murmuring stopped and then he was handed away again to someone- something else. He felt a shift in gravity and suddenly he was laying on one of them, but the arms and legs still stretched past Ratchet, so it must have abandoned the ground and decided to climb with Ratchet on it's stomach, all over the ceiling.

That's one way to do it he supposed. It proved that they had some kind of intelligence. That they were able to find solutions to minor problems at least. If Ratchet could see, he would try to figure out how many limbs they had. Because he was lacking the power to move, he couldn't even begin to try and imagine what they looked like. 

Then again.. no, nevermind. Enough thinking. He couldn't concentrate anymore. The pain by now too much for him to be able to ignore it, they would kill him eventually if he didn't bleed out before that. So with the remaining processor power he has, he decides to simply accept it and get as much peace before his end came. His engine gave a loud squench sound, which was not good, when he tried to force an emergency shut-down. The creature currently holding him jerked with a startled noise and he was shifted around. 

Ratchet didn't even feel anymore when he was laid down for examination by their curious servos. The last thing he does feel is sweet bliss a the pain finally stops and is replaced with sweet, dark oblivion. 

* * *

Ratchet woke up again, which was not what he'd been expecting. He had been expecting to be dead and dying and not so.. refreshed. His optics wander and the first thing he realizes is that there is no paint no matter how much he wiggles, his optics slowly dimming again. His body was still exhausted from the entire almost dying ordeal and seemed to be ready to sleep some more. Right before the realization slammed into his head what had happened last, sitting up and grunting with strain. Staring at his repaired leg. What..? 

Staring down at his body, it had been repaired and.. even re-painted. Yet he looked a little more, spunky? His colors were much more glimmering now. His finish had been done quite artistically. It made him only think harder about the part how intelligent these creatures were. Right before a chirr got his attention. Spinning his head around he stared at the mech standing there. It  _was_ a mech. 

Or .. kind of? The mech was maybe a head bigger than him and staring down with a curious expression. It wore a battlemask, had audial fins that continued to flash in different colors and, behold! More than two arms. Four in fact. They ended in broad claws with sharp fingertips, looking really dangerous but with digits that elegant, even if the sharpness was probably capable of tearing someone into pieces, was probably good for delicate work. 

It was sitting, more like crouching before slowly coming closer, while it moved he realized that it.. he? Whatever it was, had some very sturdy armor, definetely warrior class. Thick and robust. His massive body slowly circled Ratchet who was sitting on his nerves, staring at him four multiple, four, optics before chirring again. Whoop. While it was walking Ratchet noticed the weird pedes, they seemed to have some sort of.. claw-ish toe pieces? Two each that seemed able to hold easily onto the stone walls around them if they wanted to.

Two fragile looking antenna lifted from his helm, long and elegant, twitching when Ratchet even moved. That's how they probably moved around in the total darkness. They weren't incredibly massive, not long enough to be in the way but he could see how coordinating with these would be easier.

"Hah!" Ratchet almost had a spark attack at the happy chime, the voice that filled the air was not his. Somewhat cheery, hoarse with a smoothy deep undertone that spew out interest and curiousity. "I knew it! I told them you'd wake up with me patching you up but they wouldn't believe it!" And before the medic even got to reply he was suddenly drowning with a lap full of.. bug-bot? He felt bad calling him an insecticon when the mech was clearly very intelligent. 

Insecticons usually were very aggressive and followed their primal instincts, at least from where he came from. Not that Ratchet was able to ponder much about it, before now for claws were groping him, fragging  _everywhere._ He gave a startled yelp as he felt a hand cup his valve panel and tensed up with confusion and- more confusion. "And I've never seen one of your kind before- I mean, sure, from afar- Never from so close! By the creator, your armor is  _so smooth!_ " Someone save him from this spunk.

Should he throw a fit? Tell him to frag off and shove him away? What if the mech reacted violently? The old medic just swallowed thickly and while trying to frantically but submissively squirm away, very aware of how easily he could be torn apart right now, a question gave him an opening to not be a mute, useless waste of space. "I'm so stoked to meet you, you wouldn't believe! Tell me your occupation! About your home- No, wait, tell me about your technolog- No-" Wow. The poor thing seemed to have a nerdgasm right there because suddenly vents on his shoulders cracked open and spew out steam and smoke like a furnace before he calmed down. "O-Occupation. Let's- Yeah- Come on- I know you can talk, say something!" 

Ok. He could do that- "Medic. I'm a medic." His voice was more gruff than he had meant it to be from his nervousness and confusion, but the other, bigger mech didn't even seem to care. His optics just glimmered with mirth and excitement, wrinkling gently as his audial fins flared a bright yellow before switching to bright blue. Then he tilts his head. Blinking. It shouldn't look so surreal with four optics, but there weren't many with four optics. Usually either two, one, or visor. 

"What's a medic?" Oh. Alright. "A doctor. I fix people if they get hurt." Or used to. Definetely used to, these days his hands were not working as well still. Even if he tried to will them to work, it usually did not work. The excited chirr and the massive body clinging to him as he got comfy in Ratchets lap made him grunt. "Healer! You're a healer? You don't look remotely like one-" Thanks a lot. "-Healers are such sleek frames."

"Not where I come from. Healers can be-" Sturdy, Bulky, Blocky, "..big too." He makes a grimace as he felt absolutely ridiculous trying to ..what was he doing? Ratchet was over four million years old, he should be over the age of being ashamed of his own frame. But it was hard when compared to a warrior class with such a body. He seemed able tear into anyone, able to fix people too. He had fixed Ratchet after all. 

"Thank you. For .. fixing me." Oof! He gets practically shoved into the berth as the mech above him blurted out absolute hysterical chirrs and chuffs. Pressing his face into Ratchets throat and letting his antenna wiggle hectically, tremble, really. His claws clinging to Ratchet as if he was an object to keep. "Ohh! No worries little thing! You're safe here, safe in the hive! You'll love it!" Hive. So they  _were_ Insecticons..? 

"I-, what's your name?" The mech sat up again. "It's Wheeljack." - "Wheeljack, right, so, Wheeljack. I can not stay here. My team needs me." Ratchet tried to explain calmly, making soothing hand motions to not agitate the bug-bot on him further. The reaction he expected did not look so happy. "You don't have a group anymore. You mean the other creatures-" So to them,  _they_ were the creatures? "-you were traveling with? They already left! Around a day or two ago." 

His spark clenched painfully. Oh right.. Ratchet did tell them to get off this cursed rock. His swing of mood must have been visible, because the happy rambling of Wheeljack above him cut off and he frowned slightly before reaching out and softly petting along his face. "Do not worry yourself. You don't need such a small hive. You can be part of ours." The confidence he used to claim that was so optimistic that Ratchet almost fooled himself into seeing that as a valiable option. But staying was not an option. They hadn't found any actual energon on the surface and he'd starve if there was no energon. There were some techno-beasts in the giant crystal forests around the area but the old mech would never be able to catch one. 

Rathet softly shoved the claws off his body. He felt like he was suffocating. "I.. I need to be alone please. Or- Just not touched right now." Which was all it needed for the other to get completely off him, his just recent excitement had died along with Ratchets hope of ever getting back home, alive. Wait, hold up. He lifts his helm again and stared at the bigger mech. "How long was I out?" - "Out? As in, outside of the system-" Ratchet cleared his throat and shook his head. "As in, unconcious." 

"Oh, that's easy. Roughly Seven solar cycles." That was pretty long.. "And my team just left two days ago? What else were they doing then?" And oh, now Wheeljack looked slightly uncomfortable. Staring at the ceiling and then at the wall. "Wheeljack." The stern tone, usually used to scold someone, seemed to only make the big creature shrink even more. "Wheeljack, tell me, what were they doing here still?" Primus, please don't let another one have died. 

"Graves." The hesitant voice of Wheeljack made him snap out of his pessimistic thoughts. "They made five After stones. Near the vessel you used to get here. Though, at the first solar cycle after you fell they tried to find a way to climb all the way down here. Which they, obviously, didn't manage. So Second solar cycle they build the After Stones." The mech babbled, already good mooded again. He seemed to have issues relating on Ratchets level, especially since there seemed a culture difference here. 

"I see." Ratchet couldn't find it in himself to say anything else. Staring at his servos, which were twitching irrationally again already. Swallowing thickly he slowly laid back down, rolled on his side and curled up as the depressing fact that he was stranded here sank in even further. Any other question he might would have had died on his glossa and even the soft nudging of Wheeljack did not bring him out of his sad stupor. 

"I.. I didn't mean to upset you." The sad chirr from the other made him glance but he just looked away again. Closed his optics and didn't move. Eventually the gentle nudging and sad, encouraging chuffing and chirring did stop. He heard heavy footsteps move away, soft skritching at the entrance. "I'll.. I'll come back to check up on you later. Don't leave this room. I'll bring fuel too if you behave." He sounded as if he was hoping for Ratchet to reply at least with something. When he didn't, the only thing he hears is a sigh. Then the pede-steps disappear in the long tunnels. 

Fuel, mh? Maybe they did have energon but only under the surface. He slowly glances around to take in the room. It was not as shady as first seemed. He was laying on an berth made out of stone but polished to a smooth piece of furniture stuck to the middle of the room. There were shelves left and right, no datapads but they seemed to have some weird.. Was it paper? No. Maybe they were some older version of datapads. 

No windows. Duh, they were in the underground after all. It was a little usettling to be so deep under the surface of a very dangerous planet. Swallowing thickly he curled up even more, still feeling Wheeljacks claws all over his body. He was just happy the other had been able to keep his curiousity to some degree to himelf. He prayed it would stay that way. Maybe if possible he'd visit the graves and punch his own into the dirt. If they came back and saw it, maybe they got the hint.. 

No more thoughts for now. He's tired, he realizes. After seven solar cycles of resting one would think he'd be more refreshed but he couldn't contain it. The emotional distress and adrenaline shot the other mech gave him with his little attack, well.. he was old after all. So Ratchet doesn't fight the urge to close his optics and curl up even further, even if he feels completely unprotected. It was better than nothing. 

With nothing but his hope and stubborness to keep him going, he falls into recharge. 

 


	2. Better duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need a beta reader who can describe things better than me. *sob*

He was waking up with nothing but silence around him. Silence and, a face right in front of his. Wham- Hand straight up to swat at the other who dared to come so close. "Ouch! Fragging hell-" Loud screeching of distress made Ratchet practically bolt off the berth and- right into Wheeljack who was hurrying around the corner. Looking frazzled. "What ha- Whoop! Hey there, buglet!" Buglet..? He grimaced in distaste at the unfitting nickname. "It's Ratchet." He stated dryly before realizing that, in fact, he had not introduced himself before. Well, no time like the present he supposed. But since behind him the mech was scrambling to gather himself already, Ratchet swiftly disappeared behind Wheeljack since the bigger was clearly on his side here. Probably. "He startled me." 

Wheeljack, in turn, was a bit confused at first before his optics shone like stars in pure excitement. He just looked at Ratchet as if he saw the medic taking shelter behind him as an intense show of trust, like the owner training the puppy to love him. "Oh! Don't you worry your strange helmet!" The .. inecticon? Should he call them that? The insecticon chirred at Ratchet and put a servo onto the others face before he pointed straight ahead at the one rubbing his face. "That's Perceptor. We're working together, he was curious about you." 

When Ratchet looked back up, Perceptor was standing again with a cold frown. Perceptor was around as big as Wheeljack bit a bit slimmer. Yet the same kind of antenna on his black helmet. His legs seemed to be built differently, while Wheeljacks looked very sturdy and strong, Perceptor looked as if he could jump through the ceiling with his. Strong cables visible, running along his knee-joints. His pedes had three toe pieces that could probably get an even better grip on an uneven surface. His servos therefore, were not nearly as sharp clawed than Wheeljacks. While the others seemed to be made to handle fragile objects, Perceptors were a bit more thick and blunt. Yet still resembling claws. 

"I was not just curious, Leader wants to see too. Your little pet-project." He gave back to the statement from Wheeljack, which made Ratchet shrink. Right. Pet. He could be cattle in their optics. He didn't know. Ratchet startles a little as the masked mech stood straight and let his optics shine even brighter, his audial fins turning yellow again. "With pleasure- Ah- I have a time sensitive project right now. I suppose Cliffjumper could bring Ratchet?" - "You're actually letting it pick it's own name?" Oh. 

With a short moment Ratchet is reminded that these are not his people, once again. He's not one of them. Even if they talk so.. civilized. They were clearly a bit behind with technology but still, they were smart and bright minds. "Bah, don't worry, little one. He's picking on you." Ratchet glances up and stares at Perceptor with a grim expression. He only got a just as grim expression back. Yeah, sure. Just fun and games that dude, he could just see the happiness and mirth radiate off of him. In grams. One gram actually. He had one gram of mirth, probably, tucked away in there that he was saving for a tiny smile for when he did find something funny. It probably needed hours of charging to be usable too. "Right"

"In any rate, how would Cliffjumper bring him? No offense, but your project doesn't look exactly like it weights nothing and he still has a busted pede from his challenge ordeal with Bluestreak and Gears." The mech gave a simple shrug and huffed. "Beats me how they even talked Gears into it.." Then, Ratchet understood nothing. They both suddenly just switched to weird click and clatter sounds, using a glossa he never even remotely heard, their antenna showing a dance of visible communication. Yet, it was more of a squirmish. They were all over the place, really. Trembling like grass in the wind. 

Should he say something..? Their debate seemed to become heated, slowly but surely, and Ratchet felt a little out of place. So he turned and peeked carefully out of the doorway, staring through the tunnel. It was actually lit now that he was watching out for it. Softly glowing stones worked into the walls and making it even look cozy. At a loud snarl from Perceptor Ratchet decided to quickly move out of their way, especially since they were actually ruffling their armor as if they were organic cats. 

Not his problem. Curiousity getting the better of him, he slowly made his way to the end of the hallway, just to stare down and up, forget stairs, they just had more tunnels. Everywhere. They were branching off like twigs from a tree in any direction. Like tubes. It kind of reminded Ratchet of a Hamster having to go through a tube before able to reach the next level. So tunnels and tubes.. rooms. Three things making out the system he had been thrown into. Is what he knew. 

This was intense.. This was literally a completely new .. new  _world._ And Ratchet was right in the middle of it. They seemed to have some kind of society here, completely unseen by any optic. Just living in peace. Progressing in their own pace. Should he even be here? Wouldn't that ruin their evolution? Carefully he leaned over and put a hand on the wall to support himself. Now he was staring down into the tube that seemed to lead straight down. With a little dip, directly under them must be another hallw- "Ratchet!" 

Just like that he slips and before he knows he's pummeling down the tube with a distressed noise- Hearing Wheeljacks just as distressed screech from behind him. Guess he'd still die. The old mech curled up as he rolled like a dice downwards, he probably looked ridiculous. The weird clicking- clattering language came from below him, sounding surprised and startled while another one, a bit deeper, sounded more pissed off. Oh no. 

Whoever they were, they got an face full of aft, because Ratchet really couldn't stop. How could he? He had nothing to use as leverage. Right now the medic wished that he had cool claws like Wheeljack, then he could at least claw into the wall and hang there until someone helped him not break a leg. "Ack! Dodge- Dodge you fools!" Ratchet opened his optics in favor of trying to coordinate, only to be inches away from a red chassis that he slammed into face first with a sickening crunch as his left optic cracked. Nicely done, you old fool. How dare you call anyone a fool. You're such a hypocrite-

Grunting as he rolled over the mech as the red mass toppled backwards, he slammed into a set of yellow/black legs next. Wobbling disoriented and feeling like he was about to hurl. Even if his tank was empty and he was running on lower than 30% fuel at this point. But as he looks straight ahead, he still sees those legs, next thing he sees is when he looks up. A very angry face that turns from irritation to fury. Ratchet scrambled backwards faster than he had thought he could as the marigold insecticon practically roared at him. His audials ringing with pain as for a short moment, he actually lost their function. Hearing nothing for a split second. The fact that the chin of the loud mech  _split,_ revealing the fact that their mandibles were ,in fact, seperated and hiding even more vivious looking denta. A strong jaw. He could probably crush someones head with these. 

But backing off send him into someone else. Turning his head around he looked at a tulip dark red colored leg. With the same black tones. Just great- Now he was back into a sandwich situation. Staring up at mechs at least a head bigger than Wheeljack. Primus. Primus have mercy. Neither of them looked humored, they probably were pissed off with him tumbling down on them. "Alright- Uh, Wheeljack?!" Usually Ratchet would fight his own but, he knew when he was putting up a useless fight. 

This was such a situation. They both have a similiar frame build but still distinguished in certain areas. For once, while both of them had the antennas that everyone else seemed to have, pinned back and much shorter, the red one had two short antlers on his head, that looked sturdy enough to skewer someone. His companion had bigger audial fins than wheeljack but those too, seemed to be able to knock someone off without carrying too much damage. And oh, they both only had two optics. 

Their bodies were much broader than Wheeljacks build too, their claws were even thicker than Perceptors. Clearly not made to work with anything but when shredding a body into pieces. Their servos in general where bigger, their forearms too. Build for offense and defense. It was scary to be stuck between growling insecticons, about to be shreddered like a piece of paper. 

Ho and behold, his savior appears. Wheeljack comes crawling out of the bigger tunnel and climbered along the ceiling like some circus artist, (or a cockroach), just to drop between the warriors and next to Ratchet, looming a bit over the startled medic. There they went again with their weird language. It was a pain in the aft to listen to that and have no idea what was being said. "-and that's why, just talk to him like this. He understands Off-World language just fine." Bless Wheeljacks spark.

The marigold mech snarled in response and simply stomped past them to the tunnel to climb up to wherever they were headed to. Ratchet sitting on the ground and slowly getting up as the red mech glanced down and seemed to analyze him. "Watch yourself." It sounded gruff-ish. An unfriendly frown on the bigger mechs face before he turned around and followed his companion, climbing up the tunnel with ease. He could see that they had the same kind of toe pieces like Wheeljack. Two split. 

"Pff, twins.." _Twins?_ "Don't worry about them, they're just miffed because their hunt wasn't successfull. Rain ruined it." Rain..? As in, water? A question for another day. "You'll get used to them, they'll get used to you." The friendly scientist, patted his shoulder. "But, as much as I would love to chat, Optimus is waiting. Let's go! You'll love him, he's great-" And there was the babbling again. Somehow.. it was endearing. Ratchet mostly didn't know what to say since he was so nervous, but Wheeljack could just talk for them both. It was easy. Easy company. The best kind of company. Why fight for a conversation if you could have an easy and comfortable one? 

"Well, where to? I'll try my best to keep up." Which sounded ridiculous even in his audials. How the frag was he even going to attempt to keep up. Those mechs climbed all over the ceiling as if it was the fragging ground, he already got into trouble if it was going a bit too steep uphill. "Hah! Keep up, good one. Oh no. Come here." And whoop, next thing he knew he was in the others arms. Two of his arms wrapping firmly around him. "Hold on." Which he quickly did. 

And so, embarassed as he was, he got carried away by his probably first, somewhat pal. To be honest, there were worse things than to have such an energetic friend. Wheeljack seemed to be a smart ally to have, the scientist had a good grasp on things, especially since he just calmed down those two angry balls of violence withing a few sentences. It made him realize that maybe he should think about his future. If this thing was going to work. After all, the hive leader could still say he had to get outta here. He prayed that this Optimus wouldn't send him out there into the wildnerness, he'd die. The old mech maybe would have been able to last back then but now? He wouldn't make it long.. Guess he had to wait and find out. 

* * *

He hadn't expected such an intimidating presence. Wheeljack had abandoned him for the favor of standing not in the middle of a giant.. throne room? He called it a throne room. There were other insecticons at the sidelines, staring curiously. On top of an actual throne sat a giant mech. He was massive, looming even over the twins who were in the same room, staring at Ratchet with intense expressions. Optimus Prime. Wheeljack had told him he was the absolute ruler of the hive, making sure they were all safe and organized enough to co-exist with other hives that lived in other areas. Just above being savages. 

He wasn't alone though, there were two other mechs standing at the sides of the leader. A, given, rather small mech with a black and white paint job who had short, stubby horns and a visor. At first Ratchet had thought that he only had two arms but as most mechs, he had four. Two of them were just tucked into his armor and almost invisible. But he had seen some with two arms only by now. For example, the other mech that was at Optimus's side. He was bigger than the visored mech but smaller than Wheeljack. Glaring even colder than Perceptor at the medic. It made him nervous. But he also spotted wings. Two of them, in fact. They reminded him of the wings from Insecticons but clearly able to lift the stoic mech off the ground if he wished so. Maybe all of them had wings that were usually tucked away. Then again, Wheeljack didn't. 

Oh Ridge. If only you could see this.. "Cybertronian Ratchet. Right?" The deep voice sounded even more intimidating than he looked, if that was even possible. "Yes." - "I heard that you have the occupation of a healer." Oh damn it, Wheeljack just had to babble. "Retired, but yes." To which the big mech raised an eye ridge and leaned a little forward, supporting his elbows on his knees. "Retired from your duty to heal? How so?" 

So they were planning on humiliating him before letting him know what they'd do with him. "Sickness. Age." He felt all optics on him, it was suffocating. But the answer seemed to satisfy the leader, the Prime. Because he leaned back and seemed to think, relax a little. "Ah yes, very understandable. Age gets the best of us, right, Ironhide?" Some giggles, some chuckles left and right as a broad and bright red painted mech flared his armor with a loud huff and pointing at their leader "Ya gotta talk!" 

"Please, please. We shall discuss the torture of growing old later." Optimus was clearly amused, rumbling and stroking over his chin as if in thought while the smaller mech, who almost looked ridiculous standing next to the Prime if not for the fact that he gave off a rather intimidating vibe himself, was rocking back and forth on his heels with a amused smirk on his faceplates. The winged one, still looked as if his carrier died. Maybe he had even less mirth than Perceptor. If that was possible. 

"Anyway, Ratchet, as you probably are already aware of, Wheeljack has brought you here without any kind of allowance from any of the higher ranked members of this place-" No. He didn't know. He glanced over to Wheeljack and the startled and guilty expression thrown in his direction was all he needed to know for a confirmation. Alright then- "-and I am understanding of the hardships you have gone through. But I am incapable of having you remain here. This is not your world." The winged mech steps forward and glares down at Ratchet with an unforgiving nature that made his fuel grow cold. "I say we kill him." 

Freezing. His fuel lines were freezing. "He would have died down there if not for the fact that .. Wheeljack took pity on this desperate creature and interrupted the natural circle of live. We shall not interrupt it and if he leaves and finds his people, there is no doubt that he will tell them about us. Imagine them swarming our hive with their weapons." He flared his wings and snarled at Ratchet directly while the crowd started to mumble to itself, mechs left and right seeming to get as agitated as the mech speaking against Ratchet. "And we are good, but it's not a secret that their technology is superior to ours. We would lose." 

That seemed to get them going. Their glares boring into Ratchets armor and he couldn't help but freeze at it. They wanted him dead. Who could blame them? Cybertronians weren't a peaceful race, they ruined everything they came to contact with and if they didn't upon contact, they punched it repeadetly. "Prowl. Enough." The thundering voice of the Prime made the smaller make a quick step back, staring hatefully at Ratchet. 

He couldn't help but wonder who the insecticon had lost to Cybertronians.. "Ratchet. You're allowed to defend yourself." Alright then. He crossed his arms slowly and stared at the ground, cupping his own chin in thought before lifting his head. "I think it'd be appropriate for me to correct your companion. The only desperation coming from me was because I looked like a techno-hedgehog down there with the spikes raging out of my body." 

Ratchet was talking out of his aft. He was a medic, not a lawyer. Alone- defending himself.. How was he supposed to defend himself? He had nothing to work with here except for that he didn't ask for being saved. If that even counted for anything. "Not once did I ask for saving, in fact, I remember asking for death." With a frown he jabbed his finger at Prowl and then made a vague hand gesture. "It wasn't my intention to fall down here, nor to stay here." He makes a wave motion with both hands and starts to pace out of simple nervouness. 

"It's not like you didn't have the option to either kill me or send me back- I was told my team hadn't left until five solar cycles after my fall and I didn't wake up before that, you had the chance to either end my life before I ever woke up and end my struggle or return me. You didn't even need to let Wheeljack patch me up, but you did. You can't tell me you just turned a blind optic on him using resources on an outsider and now that I'm awake you plan to waste them with wasting me." He was talking himself into a frenzy, stopping to point at Optimus himself.

"Telling me I am 'allowed' to defend myself, is ridiculous. How about you defend  _your_ actions before I do? Did you just keep me around to make a show out of me as soon as I came to? Make me beg and struggle to stay alive?" That caued a reaction, Optimus narrowed his, two, optics. Prowl stomped his foot, the visored mech stopped grinning and the tension of the air was almost cuttable. "How  _d **are you-**_ " Prowl looked as if he was going to attack the old mech.

"Prowl. Stop." The voice of Optimus was more than thoughtful, staring intently at Ratchet as the winged mech stared too, but more angry. Everyone was on edge now. "We did not mean to give you the impression that we only waited to kill you once you're concious.." The leader slowly stood and walked off the ledge, heavy steps leading him right in front of the medic. Staring down. "But I can't afford to keep you here if you have nothing to contribute. Even if it is not much. Everyone has to do a little part in the hive so that we can survive." 

"I'm a medic. A healer." Ratchet didn't back down, just glared back up at the soft expression Optimus gave him. "I'll earn it alright." Even if he had to slam a hammr down his hands a few thousand times. Until he found a way back home he'd have to ensure he'd stay alive. And he couldn't die just here. Not after he miraculously had made it. 

"Well then." Optimus optics wrinkled as if he wa smiling. "I'll be looking forward to that. Wheeljack, you can take him away again." When turning around he was immediately swarmed by quite a few mechs, Prowl included, who wa protesting loudly. "You can not be serious! He won't fit- He'll only hinder the others on functioning properly!" His wings fluttering wildly and lifting him up so he could be on optic level as the Prime. "What if he poisons us! This.. t _hing_ can not be trusted!" Wow, nice choice of words. 

Ratchet was heated, he almost snarked back but was grabbed and pulled away. Wheeljack. He looked anxious and was staring around as if someone was going to take his break through away. After all, he did mention that fixing Ratchet had been hard. Down the hallway, past quite a few rooms before he stopped and stared down at Ratchet, his expression anxious but then slowly morphing into a bright expression. "Oh Ratchet," He chirred softly and slowly leaned down to nuzzle the medics throat. "Welcome to the hive." 

And it sounded so happy, he would have been reliefed. But when he glanced to the side, he stared at the bright visor of the small mech that had been standing next to Optimus. Just staring at Ratchet with an unsettling smile. It was probably meant to look friendly, but his mandibles were parting slightly and his antenna were standing tall. Even if they were rather short. His claws reminding him of the ones of the twins. Wheeljack didn't notice. Ratchet hadn't either until he saw him. He heard nothing, and every mall noise was traveling usually through the walls and easily heard. 

Wheeljack was busy nosing his throat, too busy in fact. Any word Ratchet might have had died on his glossa as the mech smirked to him. It felt as if he was pulling Ratchets armor off with his optics, and he couldn't even see them. He almost expects the other to attack them but instead he gets a curt nod and then, gone. He just, smooth as water, slid behind a corner and was gone. It left him reeling. Lifting a shakey hand to put them on his companions neck and pat it gently. 

"..Thanks." 

* * *

It hadn't been long. Maybe a few weeks since then. By now he had been getting to know everyone left and right more. He even knew some by the names. Wheeljack, who he knew because that one saved his life and adopted him, sort of.. Wheeljack got very protective of Ratchet at the weirdest times. Then there was Prowl. He was a winglet. As in, had wings. As earlier mentioned. Apparently there were only two typed of Insecticons here. Winglets and Grounders. Grounders were built a lot more robust and sturdy, packed a lot more physical punch, therefore, winglets were agile and incredibly fast, even on foot. Since they didn't have as much mass as the grounders, they seemed able to move twice as fast. 

Ratchet had yet to see which kind was superior. Then, Jazz. Also a Winglet. But he didn't seem comfortable with showing them off like most of his kind. Everytime Ratchet spotted him, they were tightly pressed against his back armor, creating a firm shell that would be hard to break. Maybe it was out of self preservation. The visored mech also had a habit of sneaking around too much. The old medic had found himself almost die due to an spark attack at least two times by now. Ridiculous buglet. 

Then, Bluestreak and Smokestreak. Also Winglets. Prowls brothers actually, but they didn't have that much in common. Bluestreak talked way too much and Smokescreen reminded him of a teen in his rebellious phase, even if he had some kind of therapist reputation among his folks. Apparently a good listener and good for advice. Bluestreak, he wasn't a good listener. The little, blue thing couldn't keep still and quiet for the time duration of ten clicks before starting to vibrate. How they ended up like this and Prowl ending up the way he did, was a mystery. 

At least but not last, the twins. Both grounders. He got to know them while patching them up just two solar cycles ago because apparently they had started a small fight down in their community room. Or Rec. Room. He didn't know what to call it. A bar? People gathered there to drink and be happy. Sounded like one at least. 

This meeting had went completely different. Sideswipe was a completely different mech when not irritated, smiling widely and nudging and inquiring as much information as possible out of the old mech. Which he mostly refused to give, especially when Sideswipe asked for advice to pick up 'chicks' the 'old school way'. Wherever he had picked that language up from, it made him snort just thinking about how human it sounded. 

Sunstreaker was competely the opposite. While his brother was talking and joking around and being in general a bother, the marigold mech would not put any effort into socializing what so ever. The only time he did speak was to snarl at Ratchet to frag off as the old medic tried to patch up his leg. To which he got a wrench right in the face before he could actually bite Ratchet. After that, he had snarked him and Sideswipe together like a fury. Sideswipe, because he tried to bite too after Ratchet had whacked his brother. 

Ratchet only stopped to rant on about health protocolls and importance of maintainance when Sideswipe offered gentle crooning noises and practically coaxed his mood to calm down a little. Sunstreaker didn't complain again after that. But he still murred now and then when Ratchet worked on him. 

They had actually females here, Cybertronians didn't have those. Their race was mostly built on an He/Him standard, not because gender mattered much, it just turned out that the majority of the population had intense ego and macho issues. Sad. Really. 

But he was amazed, even in seven solar cycles he'd already seen a lot of people. They were incredibly interested in him and his stories. As soon as he unpacked what he had already witnessed in his travles, boy, the younglings from every corner of their system came for story time. At the third solar cycle he'd already been bullied into doing more than he was comfortable with. But somehow.. it gave him some content. He'd always been the oldest in most teams recently. But this was different. 

The youngsters were still very wary, but they did come to him for stories quite regulary, interrupting his work but, he couldn't blame them. They spend their entire time in this system, probably not going to the surface that often. Even if it was well lit everywhere, it wasn't the same as natural sunlight. So, coming to him to ask about the big universe, how could he not get lost in telling stories? He felt like a grandpa, sure, but he was a grandpa with some use. 

The old mech startles out of his funk as the loud shattering of the vase he'd been holding jerked him out of his thoughts. Staring down at the shards and then at his servos. There they went again. Twitching and cramping up until he couldn't move them at all. Venting harshley and sitting down to try and wait out the pain that was tearing through his digits. He just.. had to wait. Not here though, he realizes. So Ratchet gets up and walks to the entrance, he needed to go somewhere where he could stay in peace for now. 

The quarters that were just for him seemed like a good idea but for that he needed to- Thank you Primus for nothing. He runs face first into a red chest, stumbling before getting caught by the forearm. Why? His luck was so bad. His servos burned and by now had cramped into tight fists that he couldn't open them anymore if he tried. 

"Whoa whoa, hey there Ratch'!" Sideswipe crooned happily. Like Wheeljack, once the younger mech had let down a bit of his guard after all the story times, he got very touchy. Already leaning down to nuzzle his helm against Ratchets in geeting. Sunstreaker stood there and stared at the tight expression the medic had. Please just look away and be silent as usually. "Hey- Hello, pay attention to me. Right here." The red mech chirred and then made a whiney noise when he got pulled off his twin. 

"Pay attention to people." The marigold grounder growled lowly and gave a curt nod to the old, by now trembling medic. He needed to sit down to be able to focus on his exercises for these cases. Sideswipes smile disappeared and he tilted his head. "..Are you alright?" 

Ratchet didn't answer, he tried to brush past them with a grunt of pain, only to be picked up by the red twin. Yelping Ratchet found himself with his chassis against Sideswipes, two servos under his aft and two behind his back so he couldn't fall off. The rumbling of the other engine making him automatically press his cramped servos onto the warm chassis and groan with apprecition. For a moment, this was fine. Even if he would be embarassed later. 

"So no. 'Kay. Sunny,-" - "Don't call me that!" - "-we're stealing him." With that Sideswipe spins around and simply starts to carry the old timer away, who snarled up and started to kick and squim. Warmness be damned. He wasn't  fragging object. "Like hell! Sideswipe, put me down this instead before I'm amputating your tailpipes and sell them for scraps!" Which only got a dark chuckle of Sunstreaker, who leaned closer as he walked next to his twin. "With these hands?" 

It made him deflate like a balloon and stare helplessly at Sunstreaker. The resignment seemed to not be what the other had aiming for, because for a second he looked a bit surprised and then miserably at Ratchets expression before his cold exterior smoothened out again. Glancing up and rolling his neck. "Just bear with it. We're binging you back later." Since when did Sunstreaker talk to him at all by the way? Sideswipe giving a happy nuzzle to his helm made him jerk to look up. 

They both were practically leering at him. Now that Sunstreaker was leaning so close he could see it too. Something else but dismissive nature in his gaze. If one didn't look for it, they'd miss it.  _Oh Primus._ The medic swallowed thickly as he's carried off. Sideswipe easily climbing with him in arms into one of the tunnels and upwards. Sunstreaker right behind them. He had a feeling this was not going to work out in his favor. 

* * *

Ratchet was right, is what he thought while being cradled by  _both_ of the frontliners. Sideswipe busying himself with nosing his chassis and gently licking over it as if to soothe the older mech, while Sunstreaker was buy stroking over his helm and face, his own buried in Ratchets throat. It was the gentlest he'd ever seen the two of them, especially Sunstreaker. Where had that affection come from so suddenly? Up until now he thought that the marigolden twin hated his guts. 

He would move. He really would if not for the fact of his servos being stuck in heaven. A bowl full of hot oil. Seeping into his aching and burning joints, relaxing the pain and making it ebb away. He always had known this would help incredibly but still, still he couldn't believe it. These were so expensive on Cybertron, for the twins to have something like this just in their quarters, especially having Ratchet indulge in it. If the price to pay was this.. cuddling.. then he was so willing to pay it.  

"Spread your digits.." Sunstreakers voice right next to his audial made him flinch but he did as instructed, only able to spread them slightly and with aching pain but as soon as he did he felt even more oil eep into his sore and pained joints, into the gaps of armor and flowing into his wires. His optics flaring as his mouth dropped open with a shiver. If they had something like this and presented it like cheap equipment, he couldn't dare to hope for an oil tub? Oh Primus, what if they had one? Would Ratchet be able to indulge more? Maybe if he proved that he was worth it. Maybe he could convince them with enough nagging. 

"There we go, doesn't that feel  _so_ much nicer?" Sideswipe was the one to speak up this time, smiling down at the servos that were trembling with delight, then glancing up to look Ratchet right into his burning face. Ashamed as the old medic was, he couldn't bear to look and tried to turn his head away, only for Sunstreakers claws to gently grab his chin, making Ratchet look at him instead. "What is this? Still playing shy?" His tone was sultry, deep and rich of promise for things Ratchet was shuddering alone thinking of. "I- So what?! You're basically harassing me-" His protest is choked down by Sideswipe slowly dragging his glossa over Ratchets neck, making the medic snap to attention. "Oh!" 

"Now now, no fighting. We're all friends here." Sideswipes voice was just as smooth as he started to nibble on Ratchet. Making his vocalizer spit static from the surprise and warm feeling he didn't dare to describe. But it did work, Sunstreakers expression grew softer, he didn't let go though, no, he instead dropped his gaze to stare at Ratchets mouth. The frontliners optics shining brightly before he swallowed gently and leaned even close. "..Yeah. No fighting." 

 _Where did I go wrong?_ The thought shoves through his mind, his world slowing down as he finds himself in his headspace. Sunstreakers face inches away. Sideswipes mouth busy at his throat. When had they become so enraptured with him? Just around three months ago the two would have probably liked to tear him apart. Now here they were, lavishing attention and affection onto him. Something must have gone wrong. 

Ratchet doesn't get much further. Sunstreaker practically devours him. Pressing his lips to the older mechs. The medic can't do anything but muffle soft protest as he's simply swept away. Mind and body. His optics flaring gently as they separate, panting, venting harshly as Sunstreaker grinned predatorily. "Oh yes. No fighting at all. I think the three of us will get," His antennas flare up. "along great." He leans in again, rumbling hungrily. "Right, Ratchet?" 

Sin. Them speaking his name like this had to be a sin. Before he could get kissed again by the marigolden warrior he's pulled away though, a snarl following him. The aggressive sound would unnerve him incredibly if not for the fact that he was simply pressed into another kiss. "Mppfghh.." His engine hiccuped softly and he forced his hands to remain in the bowl. The peace they gave him against the pain too intense to be taken away at the moment. 

"Sides, stop fragging hogging him. I had his face first, I claimed it!" Sideswipe broke from Ratchet and rolled his eyes, his mandibles parting slightly as he started to growl back at his brother. "We planned to  _share_ him, remember?" Share him?? Sunstreaker snarled and pulled Ratchet back, making him give a startled noise, unsure and slightly anxious. To which twins reacted instantly with stopping their snarling at one another for a short second before leaning down and pressing one smooch after the other all over his faceplates. Crooning and chirring. 

"Hold! Stop- Time out- Just a second!" Ratchet managed to lean out of their reach, his hands almost completely out of the bowl, dripping oil on his thighs. Eight pairs of optics set on him. Staring at him with a curiousity. "W-What is this about?! Last time I checked you weren't that fond of me." Ratchet managed to sound as snappy as he aimed for, no shivering in his voice. The both mechs even winced. Sharing glanes before looking back at Ratchet. 

"..We're courting you?" Sideswipe sounded a little surprised, a little dumbfounded. "We do that sometimes." Wait, "Sometimes? So you decide to randomly-" Sunstreaker cut him off. "No- Frag no.  _We_ two don't just court people sometimes. Sure, we frag around but we haven't courted anyone before. We just decided to court you." 

It was like a cheap romance comedy. "You just decided to do so?" To which he got a collective nod. Sideswipe smiling brightly and Sunstreaker looking like someone shot him. "Yeah!" - "I.. guess?" Ridiculous. The both of them. His body jolts when Sunstreake gently aided his servos back into the bowl. "But not alone." To which the medic looked up again to their now again, predatory grins. "Not.. alone?" - "Pft," Sideswipe snorted and leaned over, closer, murmuring into his audial. "Did you think we could have stolen you from Wheeljacks keen optics if the mech didn't already know what was up..?" 

The gentle hiss of the door behind him made his helm snap around, staring at the big form of his closest friend down here. Wheeljack just stood there with pink audial fins, fidgeting before stepping in. What timing. Since he'd been stuck here, the scientist and himself had became good friends. They'd literally talk everyday just about nothing and everything. Sat together. Relaxed. Not in a million years he would have expected this turn of events. "You." 

Ignoring the gentle servos of the twins his optics squint a little. Somehow he felt oddly betrayed by the fact that Wheeljack had shared everything with him from bad past to nice present. Except his apparent growing romantic feelings. The door slides shut. "Me." The voice was firm and confident, slowly walking over. Staring down at Ratchets sitting form. 

"What if I don't want to be courted?" His voice is hoarse with mixed feelings. Want. Confusion. Fear. He was old. They weren't as old. Maybe Wheeljack got closer than the twins but still. "You can't not be courted. Unless you fight for dominance and win." Sunstreaker interjected. Sideswipe butting in. "We can fight it out if it makes you feel better!" This didn't sound good. "Fight..? How would I fight any of you three? You're way out of my weight class!" 

He felt Wheeljack settle behind him, pressing against his back with a steady purr. "We have a full stellar-cycle to convince you to accept our advances." The scientists voice had dropped as fa as Ratchets spark. That was.. 7.5 earth months? That couldn't be. "If you still decide to ignore our courting we'll have to yield to your will, but before that.. anything goes." Wheeljack slowly pressed his face right into Ratchets cheek, since the medic was still trying to look at him. "And you will yield. We'll show you how much worth it will be."

As Wheeljacks four sets of arms wrap around his chassis and just lavish soft attention of pets and strokes, pressing him forward to have him relax his hands more in the bowl, his wrists still held by Sunstreaker so they wouldn't slip out again, Sideswipe nestling into his neck, stroking and caressing his thighs. And they stayed there, for what felt like hours he remained with them for the sole sake of avoiding pain. He didn't know what to do in this situation.

Swallowing thickly he ground his denta. Maybe he needed a touch up with his knowledge about these creatures.. The thing that spurred him into motion, very probably, was Sideswipe suddenly groping his panels. It made him kick out. All three bodies startled out of their comfortable zone. Blinking online, too many optics stared at him. He practically jerks his body up and trips over Wheeljack, slamming onto his back as Sideswipe was the first standing. "No! Wait- I wasn't going to-" - "Save it!" Sideswipe shrunk into himself. Ratchet stumbling to his pedes and ignoring their protest stumbling out of the room. 

He didn't want to but was going to do what had to be done. Shaking his hands off, which by now hurt not at all anymore, he made his way firmly stepped to the tunnel he was brought up to by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He could get down. Just.. "Ratchet-" Wheeljacks voice cut him out of his concentration but only for a moment. He spun around and his anger must have been apparent, because Wheeljack halted and blinked repeatedly. " _Don't."_ His voice is gravel and growling. He makes a step back, then turns and simply drops down the tunnel. 

It was narrow enough for him to fall only for a second or three before hitting the wall and rolling out of it. The distressed chirrs of Wheeljack or the twins ignored. When he gets up he almost runs into, see and behold, Jazz. The much smaller mech staring surprised through his visor. "Whoa! My mech! You doin' alright?" The voice was smooth, surprised but still chiming. Ratchet didn't have the patience for it. "Yes. Great. If you exscuse me." He simply passed the smaller form, completely missing the weird stare given by the winglet. 

Room. Room. Room. There. Third door. He simply taps the code in furiously. Well aware Wheeljack could technically override it in case of an emergency, but Prowl also stated that it had to be a valid emergency and he doubted love problems counted to those. He hears scratching from the tunnels, a familiar sound. He doesn't give it time. He flees into his quarters and the door slides shut. The medic doesn't even have to wait long for a single knock to sound. Repeadetly. 

But he doesn't act on it. Not even after a breem. He ignored it stubbornly. Staring at the wall to distract himself, even if it wasn't helping. Maybe he overreacted. He definetely overreacted. But something had scared him into actions. First things first, he had to fix the dents he got from falling down a tunnel. So he trots to his desk and sits down in front of it. Getting to work and losing himself in it. By the end, he didn't even remember why he was so upset in the first place. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would appreciate some feedback.


	3. Making peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet learns that three admirers would have been better than four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a beta reader. My gramma is so bad. If anyone would be willing please put your hand in the air.

It's been only a week and Ratchet was at his end. Presents upon presents- Jellies, energon, pretty rocks. They had actually been serious about the whole courting thing. Sunstreaker had even taken time out of his routine to fix up his paintjob in the early morning. Had looked at Ratchet with a mildly disgusted look and claimed that he appeared like a turborat in rutting season, then dragged him all the way from the medbay to his room to fix him up. Which had been alright, Sideswipe was on patrol at that time and Wheeljack was busy with Perceptor and a mech named Brainstorm in the lab. Pretty sure he heard something explode from the distance. Plus, his own shift had been long over at the time. 

Anyway, Sunstreaker spend a total of three hours fixing up Ratchets horrible paint. He even let the medic soak his hands in their little mini-oil-pool. Which.. had been a very nice bonus actually. Aside from that, the marigolden warrior had not pushed the older mech in any way. He seemed to completely ignore the whole isue aside from showing at certain moments that he cared. Like when he cleaned the medic up to look presentable. 

Very presentable. Ratchet didn't remember looking so shiney in a long time. He sat in his chair, in the medbay, and was inspecting one of the tools that had been given to him for work. It was a wrench. His favorite object. His favored murder weapon. He already got to throw it after A winglet named Bumblebee for eating all the fragging candy- After all his three admirers gave him so much, he usually put it into the bowl in the medbay. Still. Bumblebee ate them all and then got sick, hurled all over the fragging floor. 

Ratchet turned into The Hatchet in the matter of nanoseconds. Had told the fragging youngling not to overeat- to only take one but did he listen? Hell no. Then he had to flush the others tanks out because the tank-aches had been too intense for him apparently. Which had calmed Ratchet down a bit. Tank flushing was uncomfortable and enough prize to pay. Bumblebee sure had been uncomfortable.

"Can you stop fidgeting." Sunstreakers voice made him startle out of his train of thoughts. His optics moving down to look at the marigolden mech who was busy polishing his pede. He was almost done. Seeing the strong warrior on his knees in front of Ratchet did things to his mind. "You almost kicked me." Sunstreaker grumbled as he slowly stood, towering over Ratchet for a second before moving away to clean his tools. 

Ah. Unexpected but not unwelcome. "Thank you for this. I did look horrid." Ratchet replied instead. Standing and stretching, admiring his finish with a weak smile. Only for it to be ruined by Sunstreaker revving his engine so loudly that the old mech almost got a spark attack.

"I'm sorry. About Sideswipes behavior."  _Mine too._ remained unsaid but he could feel it in the others field. The marigolden mech was looking away too. His four arms were twitching a little before they went on with cleaning his supplies and packing them away. The movement was smooth even though Sunstreaker was probably getting into a mortal combat fight with his pride at the very moment. Ratchet could only imagine how hard this was for the warrior. 

"He means well. We just.. haven't courted anyone before." Sunstreaker scratched his neck with one servo and then moved over to Ratchet with a suddenly brighter expression, sitting down in front of Ratchet and letting his antenna tremble in the air. It was like a puppy waiting for their owner to give them some kind of affection and approval. Well.. Sunstreaker did just spend hours and making up for their dumb behavior. 

 _I suppose it won't hurt to just.. indulge him a little._ Was around Ratchets string of throught before lifting a servo and putting it on the shoulder plating of the marigolden mech. "Alright. Apology accepted." He murred, still somewhat grumpy sounding but it seemed enough. Sunstreakers face lit up even further and before the medic knew it he had servos on his own shoulders. No, not four, only two, the bigger mech seemed to learn self control. 

"You won't regret this. Mainly because you will see that the choice of letting us court you is the smartest decision to make." Sunstreaker stated as dryly as the desert, staring way too intently at the old mech and making his mouth go dry. Primus. That wasn't what he had intented to bring across. 

So he lifts his servos to try and somehow re-direct the topic a little to what was really important here. "Hold up, I never said I'd let you court me." To which he got a dead expression. Suddenly Sunstreaker looked with so much grim determination at the medic that it was almost scary. If he didn't know any better he would have expected the grounder to tackle him and slaughter him right here and then. Maybe that would have been better. 

"Ratchet. You don't have a choice unless you beat us in a court battle and claim dominance. So either get in shape or get used to it. We have quite some time to convince you to accept our advances too. Willingly." Yeah. Ratchet remembers way too clearly. He needed to stick this out for a fragging stellar cycle to be able to get out of this untouched and.. as he found out by now too, without any fragging eggs in his gestalt chamber. 

Apparently they laid eggs. Which was.. to him it wasn't the most pleasant mental image. In fact, the thought of someone shoving eggs into his body was as appealing as biting into a grenade that was about to go off. Apparently he was cringing on the outside as well because Sunstreaker made a face. "Come on, it's not like we're going to rape you at a corner. Stop pretending as if it's the worst thing that could happen." A soft jab to his stomach plating makes Ratchet grunt as Sunstreaker continues to talk. "You should be flattered. All three of us aren't exactly low ranked." 

"As if that changes my opinion! I'm ready to retire thanks to all the stress you three younglings are giving me!" He stood up and shook himself a little. Getting the warriors servos off his shoulders. "I'm not willing to be charmed. Especially not like this." He trotted past the other towards the door. After all, he still has work to do. Some equipment will always need maintainance. 

"Then how do you want to be courted!" Behind him, the snarl of the bigger almost made him startle. "You make it sound as if we weren't fragging good enough! Is that it?! Are we just filthy animals to-" Alright enough. Ratchet turns around again and gives Sunstreaker a slap to the face. Nothing hard. Nothing serious or intense enough to injure the other but enough to get the other out of his little frenzy before he was able to drown in it. 

It worked. Sunny shut up and blinked like a deer in headlights. "Now." Ratchet started. "I see you as people as much as I saw my team as people. So firstly, shut up. Secondly, you're being ridiculous so shut up. Thirdly, don't put words in my mouth unless you wish me to make a noodle dinner out of your sticks up here." He points a single finger at the marigolden mechs antenna, which are trembling intensly, making the warrior squint before tilting his head. 

"..What's a noodle?" Alright then. Maybe this was one of the words he should avoid. Including all the other earth words. "Just another word for fuel that's been served in fom of thin strings." Which.. seemed to only bring more confusion into the conversation. 

"Why would anyon-" Ratchet quickly cuts Sunstreaker off as he starts the question. "I don't know, don't ask. Anyway, do you understand what I'm telling you now? Don't put words in my mouth, don't be ridiculous, shut up and stop making me repeat myself." Good conversations had. He had been having better conversations with a fragging seal all the way back on earth. At least it could look excited at what Ratchet said. Sunstreaker just looked like a kicked puppy. A puppy with temper problems. He's already growling again. 

"Fine. This isn't over." He hissed and simply stomped past Ratchet and out of the door, basically leaving the medic in his own quarters. All alone. Oh. His optics shine a little and he tilted his head before glancing around. Should he be petty and put glue on their stools..? Mhh.. Nah. He was old enough to have grown out of this phase by a long shot. So he moves over to the door, ready to leave the quarters without a fuss. 

Except he is that petty and puts long term glue onto their seats. Both of their seats. 

* * *

 Another day. Another disaster. Ratchet had managed to climb around a little thanks to a small invention from Wheeljack. It basically was like.. a grappling hook? Just for the tunnels. It was pretty useful to get around but also a fragging hassle. Especially if he got lost. Like right now. This damn system was way too fragging big. It made his helm hurt. How long had he been skampering about already? Sometimes he found a mech or two but they usually avoided him. So asking for help was basically impossible. 

 "Yo." So when the smooth voice from directly behind him came, even though he was standing with his back to the wall, Ratchet couldn't help but spin around and try to swat at whoever just startled his spark out of its casing. Fortunately he didn't get to slap the ever living hell out of the pit spawned fragger. 

Jazz, with a relaxed but amused smile, caught his wrist with too much ease and simply held it. Another thing Ratchet learned. They were a lot stronger than Cybertronians. Jazz was probably a head smaller than him, still he had no issue with manhandling Ratchet at every given opportunity. Any Cybertronian of Jazz's size would have been thrown at the fragging window by now, except that wasn't possible. While being physically stronger than the average Cybertronian, they were also a lot heavier. Probably because of the extra components left and right, extra limbs and heavy armor and such. Most of them had warrior frames. 

It still didn't exactly make Ratchet go easy on them. Even if he knew any struggle was pointless and the majority of them could kick his old aft twelve ways to sunday. "Jazz. You better have a good reason to be sneaking around like a fragging turbo-mouse." Alright, he didn't mean to snap at the smaller but the way the white mech was smiling like the sun himself only undermined Ratchet's grump. It practically spat into the medics face that his attitude wouldn't scare the third in command of the hive. 

"Aw, c'mon now. Don't be so rough on me, mech! 'M here ta spend sum' quality time with you!" Jazz snickered and moved to Ratchets side to wrap an arm around his waist and squeeze him gently. Which wasn't out of the norm. Jazz was a very touchy mech with everyone, always cheery and whatever not. Also very liked by everyone. Except Ratchet. To Ratchet, Jazz was the puppy that everyone wanted but him, but the puppy still wanted to bother him the most. 

So he rolled his optics and freed himself with a grunt from the others grasp. Sure, Jazz could have held on but his visor practically beamed with glee when Ratchet moved away. Why, was beyond him. Maybe it was  _because_ Ratchet denied the affection and attention. No one else seemed to have a problem with the winglets servos all over them, so Ratchet flat out denying any touch was probably some kind of game to Jazz. Tch. "No thanks. I'm on my way back to my quarters to sleep." Nope. To work some more. 

Jazz smiled even wider as he cocked his hip and started to saunter over and close in on Ratchet until he was right in front of the old mech. Looking up with an amused expression. "So, which direction are you headed then?" Oh that fragger. He knew that Ratchet was lost, didn't he?

"I hate you." Ratchet rubbed over his face as Jazz laughed out in glee, wrapping his arm around the others waist again to start pulling the old mech to one of the tunnels. "Oh, don't be like tha'!" He chimed loudly, filled with glee. "A'll show ya tha way back!" Which Ratchet would have somehow appreciated more if Jazz wouldn't dig his claws into the medics seams and gently tugged him closer. He also could already tell that there would be a catch. There always was a catch. 

People didn't always see said catch, but there always was one. Jazz was like a fragging debt collector and he took his payment in attention and affection. Might not be so bad, but if you refused to pay then he became a pest. Like with Ratchet. "I'll be fine." He scoffed and got free, glancing at the tunnel that Jazz had aimed at. So this would be his direction. "I'll see you later." The medic added for the sake of being friendly. Jazz wasn't as big of a pest than Prowl after all.

Ratchet didn't need to turn around to know that Jazz was following him. The winglet was pretty persistant. The soft flutter of wings told him that the other was probably floating right behind him. "Aww come on. Why you gotta be like tha'?" Jazz whined and landet next to Ratchet, slipping past him into the tunnel, but also blocking the medic. Ratchet squinted a little and resisted the urge to curse Jazz out. He didn't have the patience for this after looking for his room for what felt like hours. 

"Jazz. Don't test my patience." Ratchet rubbed over his face with an unhappy expression. Trying to look as exhausted as he could. Which, not surprisingly, worked. Jazz's amused expression softened a little and he stepped closer to take the medics servos with two of his arms while his other to rested on his waist. 

He cocked his hip a little and gave an ecouraging smile. "Alright. A won't. A jus' want you to get back safely, at least lemme get you there. No touchin'. Though we'd be probably quicker if A carried you, we're pretty far off." The saboteur gently grabbed the other a little bit firmer and started to swing his hips a little, left right, left right, moving Ratchet a little to rock from side to side too. A gentle motion. It was almost.. hypnotizing, he felt a lot more tired when lulled like that. 

"You? Carry me? Jazz, you must insane." Ratchet couldn't help but snort at the way the smallers antenna shot up and trembled in outrage. His face turning into a good willed grimace. "What? Ratch, you wound me. You think A wouldn't be able to carry you?" He whistled and suddenly whoop. 

Ratchet yelps when he suddenly finds himself in Jazz's arms. The winglet having him with all for arms and grinning almost predatory. "Lemme show you where you're wrong.." The smallers wings started to vibrate through the air until they were off the floor. Ratchet was forced to cling to Jazz for dear life as he tried not to fall to his doom. Swallowing thickly he dug his digits into Jazz's shoulder plating. Dumb fragger. He was too old for this shit.

Not like he had a choice now, because Jazz was already flying through one of the tunnels, given, not as fast since he didn't want to risk dropping ratchet, but still at an admirable pace when considering that he was carrying Ratchet. "You're not as heavy as I expected, my mech." Jazz mumbled almost surprised. Pulling Ratchet a little closer. 

"No? Well, guess I lost weight due to the stress." He joked half sparked but at the unsettled expression Jazz gave him he made a grunting noise before explaining himself. "Calm down, I did not actually lose any weight due to stress. I'm just built differently. Out of different materials and with a lot less components. You guys are packed to the point of bursting." Ratchet babbled away, at that point Jazz seemed to have realized that babbling about these kinda thinks made Ratchet relax. He didn't interrupt the medic once, merely nodding and giving a noise of confirmation once or twice to show he was still paying attention. 

Which would be good, because they had quite a way to go. 

* * *

 

 "-and that's when I wrapped my legs around his neck and flung him backwards through the window." Ratchet concluded a crazy story of his party ambulance days from his academic time. He and Jazz had managed to get on the aquired level and were walking through the halls side by side. Jazz broke into soft laughter, his two left arms had found itself around the medics waist, but so relaxed and casual that Ratchet couldn't find it in himself to care. 

"My mech, A didn't know someone could be tha' multicolored. Part time medic part time badaft extraordinair." The thrid in command whistled and made a vague servo gesture with one of his right arms. "The more you tell me the more A wanna know, no surprise tha' the younglings are constantly buggin' you for even more stories." The compliment seemed so genuine and good sparked that Ratchet couldn't help but smile a little. 

"I got tons." He nudged the smaller in a teasing manner before looking up and making a face. Right, they had to pass the lab. Wheeljack was probably on duty right now. Ratchet looks at the ceiling in thought. No, he wasn't still angry at him. But he'd be very careful. 

As if on cue, guess who was walking out of the lab with a datapad in his servo. Wheeljack was so intent on reading while walking he was going to barrel into Jazz and Ratchet, if not for Ratchet to snatch the datapad away from the other mech and pressing a servo on his chassis to stop him in his tracks, that would have happened. "Alright, texting while driving. No." Wheeljack was looking confused up and seemed to need a moment to understand what had happened. He didn't understand the earth phrase but his expression lit up none the less.

"Ratchet! So good to see you! Great you're here I got something for you-" The engineer is so excited he simply pulls Ratchet from Jazz's side and ushers him into the lab, much to the little winglets disappointment, but he followed anyway, now as well curious what was so important. Peering around the corner to see Wheeljack hussle around Ratchet and attaching some sort of device to his back. Ratchet was looking startled and uncomfortable but held still. "Wheeljack, what is this about?" The medic muttered.

"WINGS!" Wheeljack stepped back and stared with a bright expression at the old mech. "I thought that the grappling hook was a little, you know, dumb, so I'm working on giving you wings!" The scientist clapped his servos. "Given, they'll never be as useful as a real pair of wings but they're basically like a jetpack! See, if you just push this button here-" 

Before Ratchet knows what's happening, he suddenly is at the ceiling and rams his helm in with a distressed noise, right before slamming onto a counter and rolling off to crash back to the ground. The medic held his helm with a low groan, his audial feedback wasn't working right, his vision was full of static and everything felt like it was spinning. A dull throb of pain was making him curl a little more up on the floor. 

The old mech had to reset his audial feedback three times before it kicked back in. "-the frag is tha' supposed ta mean?!" Jazz's voice. "He jus' kissed the fraggin' ceiling with enough speed ta rival Blurr! Ya gunna-" Huh. Jazz accent was a lot heavier when he was upset. Noted. "I was trying to help! He can't always use this slag grappling hook, it's useless!" Wheeljack was directly next to him and helping him stand while arguing with Jazz about this stupid.. jetwingpack. 

"Both of you, shut it." Ratchet's voice was full of static but he managed to hold it together. Glaring at both of them, to which they fell silent. "You both screaming the heaven down doesn't help my headache right now." Thank Primus. Some peace and quiet. The medic turned to Wheeljack and rubbed over his own chin as he could only stare at him in thought before speaking again. "Wheeljack, what the hell is this about? You don't usually test this kind of stuff at the expense of someone's health." 

The scientist clamped up and just stared a little before deflating. "I.. I wanted to make you feel more comfortable here." Ratchet huffed and turned to Jazz before speaking. "I think I know where my room is from here. Thanks for bringing me. Could you give us a moment?" The nice way to phrase 'please get lost so we can have emotional bonding.' Jazz got it though, he gave a silent thumbs up and disappeared from the medics view. Guess he had to make it up to the winglet later on. 

"Is this about trying to make up?" Ratchet asked after another long moment of silence. "Because I'm not angry anymore but I need you to stop bombarding me with this kind of stuff." The cybertronian was unstrapping the device from his frame and handed it over to Wheeljack, who took it with an ashamed expression. 

Wheeljack slowly put it back onto the counter behind him and rubbed over his face. "I just.." He turned back to Ratchet with a despaired expression. "I need to do right by you, because I want this, I want you, not only as an option to court you but if everything fails I want for you to still be my friend." The scientist looked away. "I bond pretty quickly with people but you, it was like.. friendship on first sight? Since I saw you bleeding out there I couldn't help but want to be close to you, I want for you to be able to trust me." 

It was certainly what the medic had been expecting but he couldn't find it in himself to give a big reaction. Instead he moved over to put his servo onto Wheeljacks shoulder and give it a soft squeeze. "We are friends. We are going to stay friends as long as you don't hump my legs in my sleep." It was supposed to cheer the distressed mech up a little, which seemed to work. His audial fins flashed a soft yellow and then pink. 

"I think I'll manage not to. No promises though." The Insecticon chuckled gently and leaned over to nuzzle Ratchets throat with a soft chirr. "Thanks for hearing me out on this. You're really something else." Ratchet scoffed and gently papped his cheek.

"How? I'm like the old and grumpy version of everyone." Which got Wheeljack to laugh again, right before he squirmed a little. Ratchet tilted his head in question before the scientist spoke up again. "I, uh, still got work to do. See you later though?" The sheepish expression made Ratchet soften a little and he turned around to walk away. "Yep." He replied. "I'll see you later you obnoxious piece of toast." There's a noise of confusion from behind Ratchet.

"What's toast?" Though Ratchet doesn't answer, he just smiles satisfied at the confusion he gave his friend as he walked down the hall towards his quarters. productive day of social bonding. His team-.. His friends.. they'd be proud of him.. 

* * *

 

It was late, he'd long been recharging when he heard a gentle knock wake him up. Ratchet onlined with a grumble and was quick to get up and walk to the door to curse out whoever dared to wake him when he was off shift. He worked a lot and he worked hard and didn't have the patience for- 

The door opens and his process of thought is disrupted by looking up at Sideswipe. Who stood there with a little box in his servos. It looked so very small in his giant digits. "Uh. Hey there Ratchet." He sounded meek and unsure of himself. Making Ratchet gape a little before squinting. "Sideswipe." 

"Yeah, uh, so, let me get right to the point-" But the frontliner is stopped by a servo right in front of his face. "Before you do, come inside. I don't want to have this converstion in the hallway." Ratchet interrupted the bigger mech before walking back into his quarters. Which seemed to be Sideswipes invitation to the lions den. He just looked incredibly uncomfortable before moving after the medic with an guilty expression. He even managed to sit down in the stool while Ratchet sat on the berth. 

"So. I'm listening." Ratchet stated after taking a long sip of an energon cube he took from his desk. Looking at the small box that Sideswipe was holding and gently pointing at it with a single digit. "That for me?" He questioned with visible curiousity. 

"What? Oh! Yeah, yeah it's for you." Sideswipe handed it over to Ratchet, who wasted no time in opening it to stare at something like.. it represented an earth cake but he knew that there was no organic material in it. Frankly, Ratchet hadn't seen something this fancy in a long time. "I made it myself." Sideswipe cut into his thought of process. "Sunstreaker told me that you would probably appreciate a direct apology-" 

"An apology?" The ambulance looked up in confusion before it dawned on him. Oh, he got it. "About the groping?" To which he got a nod, making Ratchet roll his optics and put the box aside. "Sideswipe, a normal apology would have done plenty. I'm well aware that your intentions were not to make me uncomfortable. You were just being ridicuiously impatient. As always. But that's nothing new." He makes a gesture with his servos. "I forgive it, alright? Just next time I say stop, it's stop. Get it?" 

To which Sideswipe gave a curt nod. "..Is .. Is cuddling alright?" Cuddling. This warrior could tear him apart without any problem, him and his twin fearful tanks that tore through people like a hot knife through butter and then he asked if cuddling was alright..

Ratchet can't help but snort and then give a gentle pat to Sideswipes knee. "Alright. Yeah, it's alright. But not today. I want to recharge." He put his energon cube away and stretched. "So get lost-" He get tackled by tons of insecticon. Sideswipe pressing him close with a happy chime and nestling close before letting go and bouncing to the door. His antenna was trembling aggressively, his optics sparking strongly, a wide grin on his face.

"You won't regret this! You'll see!" With that he's already out and about. Leaving the medic sit there in confusion. Well.. that was fast? Ratchet coughs a little and walks to his door, closing it and re-locking it. Something made him feel .. weird. Since Sideswipe left he should be back at ease but something told him he still wasn't alone. He looked around but saw nothing. Yet the feeling wouldn't go away. His instinct told him to leave the room and sleep elsewhere. 

What.. he didn't want to call it nonesense but it felt surreal. As he walked to his berth an laid down to rest, he still thought on the weird feeling. But he was exhausted. So very exhausted. So soon he is back to sleeping. Safe and Sound, curled up on his berth in deep recharge. 

Well, safe wasn't exactly right. After a short while a form melted out of the shadows and came out of hiding. 

Jazz slowly stood to his full size with a dimmed visor and looked curiously at the door. An unreadble expression on his face which melted into something soft and happy as his gaze rested on Ratchets sleeping form. Alright. He didn't expect Sideswipe to barge in like this but it could be worked with. All in due time. The winglet stretched himself and walked in absolute silence to the door to spend around a few seconds to hack it open, letting the door swish open silently so that Jazz could walk back outside. 

He hurried to ensure that the lights from the hallway wouldn't wake his friend. Jazz laid his optics onto Ratchet one more time before giving an excited giggle and letting the door fall close once again. Leaving Ratchet in darkness and finally, solitude.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I would be very happy for any feedback or criticism.


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